Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 372 Sending Reinforcements (5 chapters a day, 10,000 words, please vote with monthly tickets)

A bloodthirsty battle cry echoed throughout the cave, the sound like thousands of rusty saws cutting through metal at the same time, causing the rock walls to shed dust.

Even the bravest warriors were terrified; the soundproofing system of the tactical helmet was completely unable to block out this soul-piercing roar.

A combat nun's hands trembled uncontrollably, and her explosive gun nearly slipped from her grasp.

The voice contained a pure bloodlust, capable of directly impacting the minds of mortals and stirring up the deepest fears within them.

Several soldiers with weaker wills had already knelt on the ground, clutching their heads and groaning in pain.

On their tactical goggles, vital signs monitoring showed their heart rate instantly spiked to a dangerous level, and their pupils dilated to the limit.

One of them even started banging his forehead against the ground, trying to dispel the bloody hallucinations that kept flashing through his mind.

The battle situation took a sharp turn for the worse, and the exhausted soldiers were forced into a series of retreats.

Their formation was shattered, and their once tight firepower was now reduced to sporadic counterattacks.

Everyone was fighting for survival, and the communication channels were filled with chaotic shouts and painful screams.

Ammunition was running out, armor was badly damaged, but most terrifyingly, as the number of demons increased, the chaotic energy permeating the air was eroding their will.

Those invisible whispers lingered in their ears, tempting them to embrace the chaos.

Guterres's power armor was damaged in several places, and a gruesome tear was ripped open in his left shoulder armor by a sharp blade. Coolant sprayed out from the broken pipes, steaming up puffs of white mist on the scorching rocky ground.

His breathing mask had a crack, and every breath he took was accompanied by bloody foam.

Three of the mechanical tentacles of the 32 were broken off, and the exposed wires crackled and occasionally emitted dangerous arcs.

His mechanical eye flickered with an unstable red light, and his vision sensors were riddled with cracks.

The fighting nuns suffered more than half casualties, and the few remaining formed a final defensive circle back to back.

Their battle robes were already soaked in blood, and their silver-white armor was covered with claw marks and bullet holes, yet they still gripped their weapons tightly.

The elder sister's left arm hung limply at her sides, but her explosive pistol continued to fire precisely.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and the acrid smell of burning promethium; every breath felt like inhaling scalding hot blades.

The strong smell of sulfur mixed with the stench of putrid entrails made even the toughest soldiers gag.

The tactical mask's filter was already operating at full capacity, yet it still couldn't completely purify the polluted air.

Blood and sweat clung to everyone's masks, and the flashing warning messages on the tactical displays almost filled their entire field of vision: low ammunition, decreasing armor integrity, life support system about to fail...

But these numbers are no longer important.

In this inferno of blood and fire, the only hope for survival was to hold out until reinforcements arrived, or to die a glorious death in battle.

Just as the defensive line was about to collapse, a not-so-bright blue-white psionic beacon suddenly lit up in a corner of the battlefield, its dazzling light like the first ray of sunlight at dawn piercing through the thick dark clouds.

With a flash of teleportation light, MaiMai, Twilight, and the others, who should have been in Upper Nest, arrived at the Bottom Nest battlefield in time, along with another Craig Inquisitor and the Storm Loyalists, via the teleportation array.

The timely arrival of reinforcements bought the defending troops valuable breathing time.

The newly arrived warriors immediately filled the gaps in the defenses, using a dense barrage of fire to halt the demons' advance.

The newfound strength acted like a shot of adrenaline into a dying body, temporarily stabilizing the crumbling defenses. The reinforcements quickly deployed into battle formations, the mechanical whirring of shell guns being reloaded echoing across the battlefield, bringing new hope to the otherwise hopeless landscape.

The defending troops, who had been retreating steadily, were greatly encouraged by this and regrouped, forming a crossfire with the reinforcements.

"For the Emperor!" The newly arrived Inquisitor Craig raised his power sword, its blade gleaming in the blood mist.

His voice was loud and firm, like a heavy hammer striking the hearts of every soldier, dispelling their cowardice and fear.

His reinforcements surged into the enemy ranks like an iron torrent, and the fierce firing made the roar of the slingshots echo across the battlefield once again.

Each volley of laser gun fire precisely tore apart several of the leading flesh-and-blood hounds, temporarily halting the demon's charge.

However, Zanazt continued to summon reinforcements from the warp, and every second a new demon emerged from the blood mist.

The crimson portals twisted violently, thick blood seeping from their edges, as if the entire warp was boiling over with the heat of the battle.

These newly emerged demons are noticeably stronger, and the marks of chaos on their bodies are more pronounced.

Their skin was branded with glowing runes, and every step they took left a burning trail on the ground.

The most frightening thing is that they seem to have some kind of tactical awareness. They no longer charge blindly, but have begun to systematically outflank human defenses.

The battle remains deadlocked, and the advantage brought by reinforcements is being gradually offset by the continuous waves of demons.

The once solid defensive line began to falter again, forcing the soldiers to fight and retreat, forming several isolated defensive circles within the cave.

The two Craig Inquisitors briefly exchanged glances across the bloody battlefield, their identical power armor bearing different battle marks.

They nodded to each other without saying a word—a simple gesture that contained a great deal of unspoken information: their assessment of the current situation and their determination to continue fighting.

But the two immediately resumed their battle, as if they had known of each other's presence all along.

Their seamless teamwork quickly created new firing positions on the battlefield, buying time for other soldiers to reorganize their defensive lines.

Their teamwork was so seamless, it was as if they had been fighting side by side for many years.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Ahriman was casting a spell to counter Zanazt's summons.

His psionic staff traced intricate runes in the air, each symbol shimmering with a silvery-blue light.

He planned to seal this space with magic, severing its connection with the warp, thereby cutting off Zanazt's summoning.

But as he continued casting the spell, his brow furrowed more and more—the chaotic pollution here was even more severe than he had anticipated.

However, this did not stump Ahriman. As he cast his spell, the portals on the battlefield began to shrink.

However, at some point, another Thousand Sons Supreme Wizard appeared beside Ahriman, wearing power armor with a black and white paint scheme reminiscent of the Ash Knight.

(The design uses this governor as the base)

(Change to this staff)
The appearance of this mysterious visitor went unnoticed by anyone, as if he had always been standing there.

“Very good, as predicted, everything is proceeding according to plan.” The Thousand Sons Supreme Wizard removed his helmet, revealing a face identical to Chen Xi’s, and said this while gazing at the battlefield.

(End of this chapter)